


Open Channel

by ptw30



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gift Fic, Kagami is a NASCAR driver, Kuroko is his spotter, M/M, Racetrack AU, Tetsuya and Seijuro are bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5543024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptw30/pseuds/ptw30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From drag racing on the streets of L.A. to winning the NASCAR Sprint Cup Series, Taiga has had a whirlwind year driving for Kiseki no Sedai Racing, and he owes it all to his spotter, Tetsuya. But as a new cup series begins and No. 10 heads to Daytona, Tetsuya's tragic past on the circuit - and with the racing team itself - threatens to tear their partnership apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Channel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [michabris (sinamour)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinamour/gifts).



> Prompt: Racetrack AU  
> Merry Christmas, Sinamour!  
> Special thanks to Eprime for editing!

Tetsuya hated Daytona International Speedway, Taiga knew well. Usually while traveling to a new track, they spoke between books Tetsuya enjoyed and the recent fad phone game Taiga played, but every few minutes on the way from their home garage in Charlotte to Daytona International Speedway, Tetsuya would snap his book shut and mutter a venomous comparison, such as, “Daytona is the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come of speedways. It is unwanted. It is evil. And it haunts us every year at the exact same time.”

Taiga’s eyes flashed up from his game, glancing at Tetsuya from across the luxury trailer. “Did we read the same book in middle school? I’m pretty sure the ghosts only show up once.”

“Kagami-kun is afraid of ghosts. What does he know?”

“I know Daytona is practically the holy grail of speedways,” he retorted, miffed enough to shut off his game. 

Tetsuya sighed, a quiet apology, before looking out the window. “You’ve only been part of the Sprint Cup Series for a year, Kagami-kun. You do not understand the true torment such a track presents.” 

And so the seven-hour journey went, with Tetsuya comparing Daytona to cola (which he couldn’t drink), to bedhead (his epic morning issue), and to the zodiac sign cancer (the sign of Midorima Shintarou, number six on the circuit who wasn’t too fond of Tetsuya). 

The first humorous and then irritating game continued until Taiga lined up for the pole race, at which time Tetsuya became completely serious. Tetsuya was the best spotter in NASCAR, after all, and Taiga liked to think of himself as the best driver. 

But Taiga owed so much to Tetsuya for taking him from drag races on the streets of L.A. to the NASCAR circuit, for helping him become the Sprint Cup Series champion his rookie year, and giving him something—or someone—to race for. 

“Bottom of the paint, Kagami-kun,” Tetsuya’s calm voice relayed in Taiga’s ear as he shifted and stepped on the gas to round the bank, low on the edge of the track. “Tight man-to-man through the turn.”

Taiga followed the instructions, making the appropriate moves on the track, and despite Tetsuya’s usual crisp commands, Taiga heard the apprehension in his shadow’s voice. He could imagine Tetsuya leaning upon the railing atop of Turn 1, dressed in his number ten jumper, large earphones swallowing the sides of his head, eyes hard like ice as they followed the cars about the track. The Florida weather was unusually harsh for January, probably staining Tetsuya’s pale skin a light red or tan hue, but Tetsuya would never complain about the heat or the weather, no matter how disgusting it became. He only relayed commands, information, praise, and the occasional off-handed comment about needing a vanilla milkshake. 

The first race of the year was particular hard, though, and though Taiga started in good spirits—

“Been around the world, don’t speak the language/But your booty, don’t need explaining/All I really need to understand is/When you talk dirty to me…”

“Mud. Sweat. Grass stains.”

“Kuroko! God, I didn’t mean like that.”

“Clean pass. May I make you aware, again, that this is an open channel, Kagami-kun? Five back.”

“So? We’ll make all the other drivers fluster and lose concentration.”

“Four back. Did you change your underwear this morning, Kagami-kun?”

“Forget it! You are horrible at dirty talk.”

“You didn’t answer his question,” a stiff voice sounded over their transmission. Shintarou, Taiga recognized.

“Yes! God! Stay off our channel.”

“Why? It’s always entertaining to hear you make a _baka_ of yourself.”

Taiga stepped on the gas, grateful that Tetsuya gave him the okay to pass No. 5. “Shut up, Ahomine!”

—his mood quickly depreciated into a growling scowl by lap 250. 

“Keep it tight for a slam dunk, Kagami-kun,” Tetsuya spoke in a quick reprimand. 

“I am,” Kagami defended, voice strained, after a crackle of noise. 

“You’re not. I’ll let you know when the ball’s in the basket.”

“Who is the driver here, and who is the spotter, huh?”

“You are the driver, but I tell you how to drive. Approaching slow car on the inside. Aniki on your outside.”

Taiga swerved, tail coming close to Seijuro’s front fender as a warning. “I’m going to make him lift.”

“He won’t.”

“He will.”

“Kagami-kun, I’m telling you—”

“And I’m telling you to shut the fuck up. I got this!”

“TAIGA! Back door!”

Taiga swore so loudly, his microphone made that annoying feedback squeal as he felt the tap on his back bumper from Seijuro, a retaliation for trying to get him to lift. He spun immediately, car screeching around the track, rubber burning across the asphalt, and shit! Where was the wall? Where was that fucking asshole and his car?

“TURN INTO THE SPIN!” Tetsuya shouted into his ear, and duh. Rookie’s move. He should have known, and he followed suit quickly, straightening the car as best he could before stepping on the gas again. The smoke stung his eyes and clogged his throat, and also covered his windshield. 

“Clear low,” Tetsuya added, voice as dead as always. “Cars on the inside but at the three-point line.”

Taiga’s Toyota peeled out as he shifted and added lead to his foot, but within three seconds, he was back on track, albeit behind by how many seconds?

“Lap, leader,” he bit out. He was pissed at Seijuro, the bastard, but he was more pissed that Tetsuya—like always—was right. He was never going to live this down.

“I, uh, I…hold on. I’ll find out.”

“…Furi? What are you doing on this channel? Where’s Tetsuya?” 

“Tetsuya asked me to take over him. S-Sorry, Taiga. I’m having Hiroshi run for the times.”

“They change by the—just check your phone for—Never mind. Tell Hiroshi to get Tetsuya. I need him for the remainder of the race.”

“Honestly, I never thought Tetsu would put up with your ass for a whole season,” Daiki’s unwanted voice crackled over the headset. “Thank God he finally came to his senses.”

“WHAT!” Ryouta screeched in his ear, stealing a wince from Taiga as he zoomed around the original slow moving car. “Kurokocchi is free? Kasamatsu-senpai, you need a second set of eyes, right? RIGHT!”

“Eyes on the road, and stop with that senpai stuff,” Yukio admonished. “I haven’t been your instructor since stock car races. Four up.”

“Everyone, off my channel now! Furi, get Tetsuya!”

“Taiga,” Tatsuya interjected, “You’re doing well. Clear high, three back. Akashi—”

“Of course, he’s leading!”

“—ahead by forty seconds.”

“You’re good through the turn,” Kazu added, breathless. 

“Uh, sorry, Taiga,” and Taiga could just see Furi cowering between his half-brother Tatsuya and Tetsuya’s stepbrother Kazunari, both of whom were frantically trying to split their attention between Taiga and their own drivers. “You know when Tetsuya doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Tetsuya had such a weak presence, he could hide in the middle of the pit crew and no one would notice him. 

“Uh, Taiga?” Furi’s nervous chatter returned a few minutes later between directives and updates. He was doing the best he could, and Taiga couldn’t fault him for that. “You might want to—if you feel you should—”

“Spit it out, Furi!”

“You should head into the pit. Your tires took a beating from the screech and near hit.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Taiga shifted down and made his way into pit road. “Thanks, Furi.”

Riko, leader of the crew, radioed Taiga to let him know the team was ready, and as he came to a stop and the team leapt over the wall, he heard a threatening hiss in his ear, “You would be wise not to alienate my brother again.”

“Seijuro?”

“Go, go, go!” Riko shouted, but then Furi screamed in his ear, “STOP!”

Seijuro zipped past and would have side swiped Taiga if not for Furi’s quick thinking. 

Fuming, Taiga took off once Kazu yelled, “Taiga, you’re clear!”

Furi gained more confidence as the race reached its three hundred and then four hundred lap, but Taiga’s anger only percolated. Okay, yeah, he shouldn’t have yelled at Tetsuya, but Seijuro tried to run him off the road for that? Not to mention, Tetsuya shouldn’t have left during the race, no matter what he yelled. They were partners, and no matter how good Furi was as a replacement, Taiga just didn’t trust him as much as he trusted Tetsuya. And Furi had one very terrible flaw. 

“Hey, uh, Furi? Could you maybe translate calls into basketball terms?”

Taiga imagined Furi scratching the back of his head, right behind his large earphones. “Huh?”

“I grew up playing basketball, so Tetsuya translates the terms into things I know—like the three-point line means the closest guy behind me isn’t close. And in the paint means he’s right on me.”

“Oh, uh, sure! I’ll try, Taiga!”

But he failed. Miserably. Taiga eventually had no choice but to slow his car for fear of losing a limb or his life with Furi as his spotter, and zipped across the finish line in twenty-fifth place. He came to a stop in pit road and watched through narrowed eyes as Seijuro took to the top of his car, popping the cork of a champagne bottle and spraying his crew with the celebratory drink. Atsushi and Shintarou both climbed out of their cars, seeking Taiga with their own bitter scowls for having their races compromised by Tatsuya and Kazu helping Furi. And since they all grew up with Tetsuya, of course they weren’t mad at him for leaving mid-race. 

Ultimately, neither of them said anything to Taiga, understanding the ramifications of losing a trusted spotter. He ignored Riko’s angered but worried glance, accepted Kiyoshi’s large hand upon his shoulder, and sighed when Hyuga chewed him out for not listening to his spotter. 

“Have you seen Tetsuya?” Taiga finally asked when Hyuga sucked in a deep inhale, apparently readying himself for the second half of his long lecture, but then he released it, winded and exasperated.

“Not since the race. Maybe you should look for him. We’ll be pulling out in a few hours, so make sure he’s on the bus.”

Taiga growled as he stood, knowing Hyuga sent him as punishment. No matter how hard he’d look, there was no way he’d find Tetsuya if he didn’t want to be found, which was why Taiga headed over to Shintarou’s garage, which buzzed with activity after the race. Mechanics completed maintenance on his car, packaged the equipment, and finished final preparations for departure when Taiga found Kazu and Shintarou by number six’s 18-wheeler. They sat in the back, Kazu with his legs crossed, Shintarou’s long limbs dangling over the edge. Taiga thought they were discussing strategy until he got closer, and then he realized they actually were.

“—not wearing it.”

“We would have won if you’d have—”

“Worn a Santa hat during the race? Shin-chan, Scorpio was second today.”

“To Sagittarius.”

“Cancer was eighth behind Pisces.”

Shintarou pushed up his glasses to glare down at Kazu, who barely glanced up from his phone as Taiga approached. “Yes, but I had my lucky item and I followed my usual routine. That guarantees a winning race.”

“If that were true, you would have won,” Taiga interrupted. “But you didn’t.”

“Perhaps if my spotter wasn’t pulling double duty helping you survive, I could have passed Seijuro with confidence.”

“Whatever happened with man proposes, God disposes?”

“We didn’t want him to dispose of you.”

Well, Taiga appreciated that.

“You’re here because you can’t find Tet-chan, huh?” Kazu’s once easy smile edged into a rather bitter frown. “You’re on your own. He doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Come on, man. I can’t apologize if I can’t find him.”

Shintarou scrutinized Taiga with elevator eyes and tapped his taped fingers against the truck’s edge. “Crossed arms, leaning forward, weight upon one leg—you don’t look apologetic.”

Taiga snorted. “Like you’ve never screamed at your spotter.”

“Screamed, yes. Disrespected, no. You told Tetsuya in front of his best friends, his brothers, and every person listening to your channel that he not only didn’t meet your needs as a spotter but lacked expert knowledge about other drivers, his twin brother even.”

“No one should be listening to us talk!” 

“Everyone listens, Taiga, even fans,” Kazu admonished, intense eyes sharpening. “ _His_ father listens to our channels, so he knows what will be on Sportscenter tomorrow.”

“Which, by the way, you will be on, screaming at Tetsuya like he’s an irrelevant nuisance,” Shintarou added. 

“I know, I know.” Taiga scratched the back of his head, letting out a pent-up sigh. “Look, man, do you know where he is? I _will_ apologize.”

After a moment of choking silence, Kazu’s eyes lowered, and he leaned back on his arms. “You know where he is. You just don’t _want_ to know where he is.”

He did? Tetsuya wouldn’t have gone to his father and stepmother’s trailer, and he would probably be too worked up to go to Seijuro’s quarters after Seijuro was the catalyst for Taiga’s outburst. And Tetsuya certainly wouldn’t go to Atsushi’s trailer, where Taiga’s own brother relaxed, and definitely not to Ryouta, who would smother him. He’d want some quiet time, some place he could sort his thoughts where no one wouldn’t pester him with a thousand questions. 

Damnit. 

Daiki leaned against his garage doorway, dressed in jeans and a dark jacket, throwing back a bottle of Powerade when Taiga approached. He stopped, waiting, but Daiki’s glower wasn’t scathing or bitter. Instead, his usually scowling face smoothed, and his voice lacked its usual harsh reproach. 

“You screwed up.”

“I know.”

“Fix it.”

Taiga sighed. If anyone understood his situation, it was Daiki. “I will.”

“You better,” Daiki warned as he walked away, “or I will take him up on his offer to work in my crew.”

Tetsuya actually asked Daiki to join his crew? Taiga really had screwed up, hadn’t he? But he wasn’t the only one.

He entered the garage through the space between the two large doors, eyeing Daiki’s red number five Ford directly in front of him. He found a slight set of legs in oiled overalls sticking out from underneath the propped up hood, and the metallic clang of a wrench echoed bitterly in the otherwise quiet garage. Tapping the toe of his sneaker against the concrete floor, Taiga debated how to start when Tetsuya’s empty voice beat him to it.

“Kagami-kun needn’t worry. I’ll train Furihata-kun in his new role over the next few races before joining Daiki-kun’s crew.”

There was probably some profound response, but Taiga mustered, “How’d you know it was me?” 

Taiga heard the exasperation in Tetsuya’s otherwise toneless voice. “Kagami-kun wears Nike Air Jordan I. Daiki-kun wears the same brand, but they’re in a darker tone.”

“Oh.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Taiga struggled to find the right wording and eventually, went with the direct approach. “Look, uh, I’m sorry about doubting you during the race. I know you know your stuff, especially about Seijuro, and it was wrong of me to ignore that.”

“Kagami-kun did not ignore. He rebuked.”

“Look, I said I was sorry, but y’know, you left me mid-race with an inexperienced spotter. We’re a team. We’re supposed to have each other’s back, and you left mine out in the open.”

“Furihata-kun shadowed me for a few races last season—”

“Really?”

“—and Kazu-chan and Tatsuya-san both offered to help.”

“Yes, but they ended up forfeiting their races for me. And I don’t trust them as much as I trust you.” A wrench clattered against the floor, but Tetsuya said nothing. So Taiga continued in a bitter growl, “You should have stayed throughout the race and then if you had problem with what I said, told me.” 

The clinging under the hood restarted, louder now, more furious. “You’re right, Kagami-kun. Please excuse my selfish actions this time, as it will be the last on your team. I already spoke with my father, and he approved of my transfer to Daiki-kun’s crew.”

“What!” Taiga roared. “But you’re _my_ spotter. How can your dad just switch you like that?”

“Since you and Daiki-kun both drive for Kiseki no Sedai Racing, a request for a change of crew is akin to a transfer into a new department, and my father is CEO. So he approves all personnel decisions.”

“That…wasn’t what I meant,” Taiga muttered, placing his foot on the corner of Tetsuya’s creeper and moving it a few inches back and forth. “Will you come out here? I want to talk to you face-to-face.”

“I’m working in my new position, Kagami-kun. I would remiss if I simply—”

“Five minutes, all right? Ahomine won’t get his panties in the bunch if you take a break.”

Taiga felt more than heard Tetsuya’s exasperated sigh, and a few second later, the creeper slid out from underneath the car, revealing Tetsuya’s outfit. Taiga immediately saw red—literally and figuratively. He could tell that Tetsuya wore red pants, but he hadn’t realized Tetsuya wore Daiki’s team jumpsuit, complete with the white number five on his upper thigh and red sleeves tied about his waist. He wore the traditional black undershirt of the team and a backwards red and black baseball cap, also donning Daiki’s car number.

The whole ensemble seemed absolutely _wrong_ on Tetsuya, especially since Taiga’s own team colors contrasted Daiki’s with a black jumpsuit, red undershirt, and the number ten. 

“I’m twice as good as he is,” Taiga loved to boast, even though he had yet to beat Daiki at the poles.

But now, no laughter came to his voice as he saw the oil smudges on Tetsuya’s nose and cheeks from working on Daiki’s car. 

“You’re…You’re serious about this.”

“Kagami-kun is the best driver on the circuit, and I was fortunate to work with him for as long as I did.”

“So what are you going to do?” Kagami growled as the anger shifted into hurt. “Be Daiki’s spotter again?”

“No,” Tetsuya sighed with a breathless laugh. “My father was hesitant to let me be your spotter after Daiki’s accident our third year on the circuit. He believes, rightly so, that I would better serve Daiki as one of his mechanics.”

“Mechanic!” That wasn’t just a demotion. It was a punishment. “You’ve got to freakin’ kidding me. You should at least be a race engineer if not a chief.”

“Daiki-kun has Shoichi-san as his crew chief and Kousuke-san as his car chief.” Tetsuya shrugged, leaning back on the hood of the car, hands lightly gripping the metal frame by his waist. “I’m fine. Father believes I’m better behind the scenes anyway, and Daiki-kun has been kind enough to take me in any capacity. If not, I might have to find a job at a track or—”

“This is utter bullshit.” Taiga’s hands balled at his thighs. “You’re better than a simple mechanic. You deserve to be out there with the drivers. I bet—”

“I’m not a driver,” Tetsuya admitted with callous fact. “I don’t have the necessary reflects or the skill, but I’m good here, Kagami-kun. I’m happy being part of Daiki’s team again, and I enjoyed working on yours. But this is where I belong.” He now brushed his fingertips along the edge of the hood with a soft but fond smile.

Taiga used to be the cause of a smile like that. “So…what? Being on my team was just a pit stop on the way back to Daiki’s side.”

A dark scowl overtook Testuya’s face, alerting Taiga that he screwed up yet again. “Yes. I sought out Kagami-kun on the streets of L.A. during a drag race, helped him survive by spotting for him during a duel with Daiki-kun, presented him to my father as the sure winner of the next Sprint Cup Series, helped make that happen, and then waited for the opportunity to return to Daiki-kun’s team the first race of your second season.”

Taiga averted his eyes and kicked a ratchet on the floor with the toe of his sneaker. “When you put it _that_ way…” 

Tetsuya sighed again, letting all his tension flee his body. “I meant I enjoy being close to the cars. I love working on them, and even though I enjoyed being your spotter more, I do well making sure the cars are in peak performance condition.”

Taiga felt the need to punch someone—Tetsuya, Daiki, Tetsuya’s father. He wasn’t picky. “You can’t tell me you want to do low-level work for one of your father’s drivers.”

Tetsuya shrugged again, obviously avoding eye contact, which triggered Taiga’s warning bells. “This is where I’m best suited.”

“Seriously, I rule at the game Bullshit, so you’re not getting anything past me.”

“You wanted me to shut up, Kagami-kun, so I am.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” God, why was Tetsuya taking that the nth degree? “I’m an idiot. You of all people know I let my mouth run, and I admitted I was wrong. What more do you want from me?”

Tetsuya’s bangs concealed his eyes, so Taiga put his knuckle under Tetsuya’s chin and raised it, shocked to see the tears glistening within those large eyes. 

“For you not to die.”

The initial shock of Tetsuya’s flushed appearance and raw voice crashed down upon Taiga, and he pounced on instinct, his larger frame pressing Tetsuya back against Daiki’s car. Taiga lowered his own lips then, taking Tetsuya’s warm ones in a demanding and fierce embrace. His tongue swiped along Tetsuya’s plush bottom lip before offering a teasing nip, and Tetsuya opened up willingly, hands pressing against Taiga’s jacket before sliding up to entangle in the forest of red hair. 

Taiga’s own arms wrapped around Tetsuya, one about his waist and another about his torso, keeping their bodies flush against one another. They breathed through their noses to keep the embrace going, Taiga’s hands fisting in Tetsuya’s shirt and jumpsuit while Tetsuya’s arms tightened about Taiga’s neck. Slipping his knee between Tetsuya’s thighs, Taiga refused to break until he felt proof of Tetsuya’s desire against him. 

Taiga parted their lips then but tossed off Tetsuya’s cap to press their foreheads together. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, breathless. 

“Dai-kun spent almost three months in the hospital when I screwed up last time,” Tetsuya repeated, equally as low. “He flipped six times because I told him he was clear, and he wasn’t.”

“You’d see it that way. Kazu says you told Daiki he was clear in two, and Jerkface went anyway.”

“Kazu-kun wasn’t there—” 

“But Sei was, and he agrees.”

Tetsuya’s heated breath rolled over Taiga’s face, and his eyes slipped shut. “I couldn’t watch the same thing happen to you. I could hardly breathe when Aniki hit your car, and then you were almost into the wall, and I just—I just kept thinking I couldn’t lose you out there.”

Taiga’s hips cradled Tetsuya’s as he tightened his arms about Tetsuya’s lithe frame. “Then don’t. No one can keep me safe like you.”

“But you have to listen to me, Kagami-kun.”

“Why do you call everyone else by their first name and me by my last name? Huh?” Taiga’s smirk grew devious as he pressed a tentative kiss to Tetsuya’s jaw, slowly moving under his chin. 

“Because Kagami-kun is technically my boss.”

Hm. Tetsuya shivered when Taiga nibbled on the sensitive area just behind his ear. “You’re _my_ boss’s son.”

“I think my father likes Kazu-kun better than me, and he values his drivers above all else.” Tetsuya’s hands tugged at Taiga’s jacket, freeing Taiga with a series of quick, tough yanks, and Taiga’s hands immediately retaliated, untying the jumpsuit’s arms from Tetsuya’s waist. 

“I value you above all else,” he whispered against Tetsuya’s lips. “I don’t like you in Daiki’s uniform. You’re supposed to wear mine.”

“Kagami-kun—”

“No…” Taiga prompted, lifting Tetsuya’s shirt off of him and navigating the curves of his narrow but taunt chest with his tongue. 

“Taiga,” he replied, hands slipping under Taiga’s shirt and smearing some of the oil from his hands over the well-defined ridges. “Don’t you want someone who will listen to you without—”

“I’m going to screw up again, but I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you. It’s you or no one.” 

Taiga’s shirt joined its jacket while Tetsuya’s uniform pooled at his ankles, and Taiga grew hot and hard from Tetsuya’s flushed face, fluttering eyes, and shallow breaths. He dove again, stealing eager, hard kisses from Tetsuya who met him with the same hasty need. 

This wasn’t how Taiga imagined their first time—when he jerked off, usually in the hotel bathroom with Tetsuya next door. He wanted to enjoy it, to pull back the layers of Tetsuya’s tightly reigned control and discover what made Tetsuya’s eyes roll back into his head and his body arch toward Taiga’s in a wordless plea for release. He wanted to hear Tetsuya whisper his name in a voice choked with lust and to explore every surface of that pale, pale canvass that he’d only managed to catch glimpses of during quick changes at the track. 

He wanted to press his lips to the steady proof of Tetsuya’s life and feel its beat quicken under his knowing touches, knowing he was the one who made Tetsuya come completely undone. 

Instead, he received Tetsuya’s skillful but drastically smaller hand reaching into his red briefs to free his quite large and already hard cock, and Taiga whimpered, burying his face in the tresses of Tetsuya’s bedraggled hair. Then, his cock grew impossibly stiff; Taiga gasped when something equally hard jerked against his. For having such small hands, Tetsuya was generously endowed, and he trapped Taiga’s and his erections together, starting with firm and slow slides before flicking his thumb across the tips and increasing the speed of his swipes. 

Taiga wanted to protest—It was too fast, too impatient—but he felt so _good._ So instead of pulling away, he tightened his arms about Tetsuya, and as the weight gradually increased, he found himself supporting Tetsuya when he legs finally gave out. His spotter’s hands, somehow, continued to work, giving sloppy, wet glides to their cocks as Tetsuya’s hot pants against his throat drove him over the edge. Taiga threw his head back as his cock twitched and splattered against their stomachs. Tetsuya muffled his moan against Taiga’s shoulder, digging into Taiga’s flesh as he released. 

But Taiga still heard it, still reveled in the simple pleasure of Tetsuya’s smaller body sagged against his own, and he dusted lazy kisses to Tetsuya’s head and temple before sealing their lips in a thorough and tender embrace. 

“You’ll come back, right?” Taiga asked between sharp inhales. 

“I think I came now, Tai-kun,” Tetsuya replied, a tiny grin curling upon his glowing face. 

“You better not have made a mess on my car!” 

Tetsuya stiffened against Taiga at Daiki’s sudden shout, and Taiga shifted, concealing Tetsuya’s body with his own, though the garage door remained opened only a crack. 

“Daiki-kun, it’s impolite to listen to others’ private moments,” Tetsuya chastised as he reached down for his jumpsuit. 

“It’s impolite to have sex on someone else’s car, Tetsu!”

Taiga snatched the jumpsuit before Tetsuya could secure it. “Technically, it was against your car, not actually _on_ your car.” 

“Shut up, Bakagami! It’s still wrong! Now clean up, so I can let my crew in. We’re moving out in less than hour. And Kousuke is already all up my ass about the delay.”

Taiga snickered but before he could retort, Tetsuya grabbed him below, warning him against such a move. 

“We will be out in a few minutes, Daiki-kun. Thank you.”

Footfalls sounded a few feet away, and Taiga relaxed against Tetsuya, capturing the spotter between his body and the car. “So…you never answered my question.” 

Tetsuya let out a distraught sigh but finally managed to pull his jumpsuit free and thread his arms through the sleeves. “My father will not let me spot for you again.”

“I was the Sprint Cup champion last year, Tetsuya,” Taiga grinned, all wanton and knowing, hands finding the hallow points of Tetsuya’s hips. “And you said it yourself. Your father values his drivers above all else. He’ll give me whatever I want, even his son.”

Tetsuya’s nose crinkled. “That sounded dirty, Tai-kun.”

“You think, Tetsuya?” Taiga’s hands skimmed down Tetsuya’s back to grab two handfuls of his ass. “You really shouldn’t wear other people’s jumpsuits. It just makes me want to take them off you.” 

“We do have a six-hour drive to Atlanta. I don’t have to wear anything during that unless Tai-kun wants me to.”

Taiga’s mouth went slack and dry before Tetsuya surprised him with a quick kiss and his shirt. As Tetsuya led them back toward their team’s garage, Taiga stopped him with an arm about his waist, pulling the smaller spotter in front of him. As they overlooked the magnificent albeit empty speedway, Taiga dropped his chin to Tetsuya’s shoulder to mutter, “You know, you never said why you hate Daytona so much.”

“Daiki-kun almost died here.”

“Daiki’s almost died in like, three races I’ve been in, so that’s really nothing new.”

“The sightlines are a disaster. There’s a strobe effect on Turn 2 during the night races—”

“This was your first race from the new spotters’ position at Turn 1, and Indianapolis is much worse.”

“The bathroom’s far from the—”

“You’ve peed off the side of the Sprint Tower once!” 

Tetsuya sighed against Taiga, knowing he was caught, and muttered, “There are no vanilla frappes here. It’s the only track on the entire circuit without a Starbucks.” 

Taiga laughed all the way back to his trailer and only stopped when Tetsuya told him he wasn’t clear to move on the inside. Then he pouted until Tetsuya relented later that night with a simple, “The pace car is in. Go for green.”

“Thanks a lot, Tetsuya!” Taiga complained at the start of the race in Atlanta as Tetsuya repeated the same words. “Now I have a boner!”

“Clean pass. May I make you aware, again, that this is an open channel, Tai-kun? Three back.”

_The End_


End file.
